


Complicated

by eoen



Series: The Song Series [5]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eoen/pseuds/eoen





	Complicated

I'm leaning back in my chair on the porch, cigarette in my mouth, when the warm sun is cut off by a shadow. I smell the Polo cologne as he leans close. "Hello, Cyke. Touch the butt and I'll blast it." 

"I was trying to check out your bruises actually. Only one on your wrist that I can see. Well, I guess that blows the Rogue theory. Damn." 

"Rogue grabbed my wrist," I admit, letting him view the damage. 

Cyke brightens a bit at that. 

"You had money on it?" Part of me is outraged, while the rest of me knows it's just Scotty reveling in the fact that someone was stupid enough to bet against a hustler. He reminds me of Belle that way sometimes. They'd get along from what I can tell, but it'd be like watching two cats in a pissing match, or gators negotiating over a kill maybe. Shit, I don't rightly know. At some point after I assess and dismiss the threat of his presence, he speaks again. I crack an eye to check on his mood. 

"Why do you pretend to be an idiot?" 

I blink at him lazily. Damn the man for being smart. Everyone else in the house is surprised I can read. "What you jawin' on, cher?" 

"Don't *pull* that shit with me, Gumbo." 

"What do you mean?" 

"This back-woods country hick shit. Accent is one thing, play-acting something else entirely." He snorted. "You're making things harder on yourself than they have to be." 

"What do you think you know about me?" 

I'm very interested in his answer to that, but maintain my drooping posture. Scott leans closer. "Do you really want me to answer that right here?" His voice is soft, but it shivers down my spine like the boldest of threats. He's onto something. He must have guessed or wormed it out of Rogue. She's the most contrary femme I know. And she likes Scott. She trusts him implicitly. I trust him to hold my secrets only as long as it isn't necessary that the team know or until he needs me to do something I don't want to do. He's not above blackmail on his best days. I'd hate to see him get on a rip. He'd be a holy terror. His conscience is smaller than mine, but his motives are more pure. I had no choice but to leave my blessedly warm sun and follow him into the Northern chill of the AC. 

"Y'all let Bobby set the thermostat?" 

Scott shakes his head. "Need your coat?" 

"Mais, mebbe I do at that." It'd be a good idea to have all of my weapons with me incase he turns out to be a threat. He snorts. 

"I have an afghan." 

If I turn down the offer it'll give him too much of an advantage. I force a grin onto my face. "Merci." It's an intricate game I play with Cyke, more difficult than playing chess with a telepath. Charles and I have a simple system. We play chess. We gossip. I feed him information. 

Scott never asks me for anything either, but his hints are very different. And whe he wants to know is always more delicate to deliver. A part of me wonders if Charles understands the man he's created. I do understand Scott. I've been dealing with generals for years. My father, bless his heart, wants me to be his Scott, his successor to the Guild leadership. He's a bit of a fool, but I love him anyway. If I did take over the guild, I'd rejoin Belle. If I do that, the world will be my bitch. Well, one of them at least. 

I curl up on the window seat, afghan tucked around my shoulders. Scott settled into his chair and steeples his finger in a unconscious mimicry of Charles. That's what really frightens me. I know Cyke created his mask to please Charles and that's why he can see through some of mine. 

"What do you think you know?" 

"You aren't an idiot." 

"Merci, but that ain't what I asked." 

He snickers and I relax a fraction. This isn't going to be a dodge of words today. "I know you are smarter than you act. I know you don't eat much anymore. You haven't gained back the weight you lost in your coma. I know you have Jean convinced beyond a doubt that you can't read above a sixth grade level *despite* the fact that you can discuss Proust with Hank. While I admire your abilities of misdirection, I do not like the fact that you use it against team-members." 

He can't stand to be seated when he's ranting. He stands and starts pacing like a caged Bengal tiger, strength, fury, and frustration. I wonder if he knows how much he resembles Logan when he does that sort of thing. "You took a piece of schrapnel to get us out of a cage. Then, you turned around and started acting like you don't have enough sense to come out of the rain. You pushed almost everyone away with one hand and pulled Storm and Rogue closer with the other. I *know* what sort of information you can get your hands on. I know you couldn't get most of it if you were and idiot. I don't understand why you're being so fucking secretive about who you are!" 

"I could tell you, cher, but I'd have to kill you." 

That stops him in mid-thought and he looks at me closely. A little frown plays on his lips and I mentally smack myself. I let my smile play at the edges of my face. He doesn't buy it. He comes closer and settles across form me. I move my feet to give him more room. It is his office after all. "I'm serious, Gambit." 

I sigh. 

"Why are you making this so hard on yourself?" 

I don't answer. Instead, I look out onto the lawn and try to spot Belle's surviellence. Scott sighs. 

"Just think about being yourself instead of the hick okay?" 

FINIS  
  



End file.
